


Dawn of a New Day

by FlysWhumpCenter (TheDarkFlygon)



Series: Theatro Mundi (BTHB 2) [18]
Category: Inazuma Eleven, Inazuma Eleven: Ares no Tenbin
Genre: Bedside Vigils, Comfort No Hurt, F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, POV Female Character, POV Third Person, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Short & Sweet, can be read as platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 19:23:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20783822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkFlygon/pseuds/FlysWhumpCenter
Summary: Akane watches over a dear friend.





	Dawn of a New Day

**Author's Note:**

> _ I'll fix what's broken. _
> 
> Written for my (second) Bad Things Happen Bingo card.  
https://morbusaegraquescribo.tumblr.com/post/186951923331/here-is-your-new-card-for-bad-things-happen-bingo  
Prompt: Bedside Vigil + Akane
> 
> I'm not even sorry for writing this much Inazuma. I love Inazuma. I need to catch up all the years I haven't written content for it.  
Also, yes, this ship? I ship it. It has a lot of my soft spots combined into one neat little burrito I immediately fell for it. I wish Akane was better written than what the anime gave us, sure, but it won't prevent me from imagining things and rely on a lot of personal interpretations. Thus this fanfic, which was supposed to be much grittier and edgier and stuff, with more focus on Akane being a more cunning spirit than she lets on, with a ton of regret and an insistence on the theme of fixing and patching things out.  
You know what my mind told me instead?  
"ngh... soft..."  
So instead, we all get fluff. I'll see if I can't fit the original idea somewhere, I still have 600-ish words written for it. I restarted this fic like 4 times before finally sticking with this version lol
> 
> but like see you soon for more angst on the flygon channel

_It’s not so bad, it’s going to be fine,_ Akane repeats in her mind. _It’s not so bad, it’s going to be all fine._

Easier thought than applied, sure. The rational part of herself knows it’s not bad: people just happen to need surgeries, sometimes, and this one wasn’t anything bad. The surgeons looked fairly relaxed about it, the nurses told her it’d be fine, that it was nothing to get this worked up about. Yet, even knowing this, she was still worried: it was still a surgery, it wasn’t just like getting a flu shot.

Still, in her heart, not getting worried is impossible. She cares about her friend too much not to be scared he won’t open his eyes again, stolen away from the world by a malevolent spirit. They’re too young to go to sleep forever, she figures, and she squeezes his fingers inside of her palm with even more strength now.

It’s funny, when she thinks about. Ryouhei has gone through so much, much more than her in fact, having fought against an enemy much bigger than he was, having faced adversaries coming from the entire world and helped save its order with strong teammates; and yet, she’s worried he won’t ever wake up from a surgery a lot of people have gone through just fine. It’s irrational, paradoxical in a way, but the feeling won’t go away, and she still has a vulnerable picture of her best friend right before her eyes.

A nurse occasionally shows up to tell her she should be moving around and not stay on that chair, that it’ll be all well and good. Akane doesn’t bulge: she’s determined to be there for him as much as possible and, frankly, she doesn’t feel like she needs to go for a walk, she’s over that. Patience is the one thing she’s always had that she can put towards anything she wants and that’s a liberty she won’t give away for anything. She’s determined to stay here, this much is sure.

She appreciates the attention and recognizes some of the nurses passing by. She sometimes chats with them, they reassure her, she observes them do a few things here and there: changing an IV bag, updating vitals on their notepads, taking temperatures and pulses. She doesn’t say anything about that, lets them to their job: she’ll have to pay them back too, someday, but they’re less close to her than Ryouhei is, so she thinks of them as secondary thanks. She’ll give them flowers in the near future, she swears, because they often compliment those she brought to put in the vase of the room.

His room isn’t unlike the one she had to stay in, except it’s meant for two and the other patient isn’t here anymore. She’s seen him leave when arriving with the bouquet and a rare plushie she’s grinded at the claw machine for, packing his things away and slipping a “have a nice day” at her before disappearing forever from her sight. It leaves her alone with the passing nurses and her friend, whose hand she holds even if she starts having a cramp from having her fingers in the same position for so long, watching the time go buy on a clock, looking at the sky through the window, glancing at him and smiling to herself about how peaceful he looks like this, both eyes visible.

It’s a rare sight of tranquillity, now that the things that caused them turmoil are over. He deserves this rest from the world.

She has lost track of time passing, more focused on staring at his chest rising and downing softly, slowly under the covers. It’s an innocuous detail nobody pays attention to, usually, yet she can’t help but find it soothing to watch now. It has a different meaning, here, giving this attention more sense. It’s a vision of serenity, of calm after a violent storm. It’s a gentle warmth she welcomes.

To be honest, Akane spent so long merely watching the window with an empty soul and eyes staring into the void that she doesn’t mind finally spending time for something dear to her, hitting home. This is an unconventional way to spend time with a childhood friend, sure, but this she also can’t mind: in a way, it’s like Ryouhei felt, watching over someone and never getting an answer. The main difference is that she was certain he’d wake up sooner or later, even if she nourished all those irrational worries, when he never knew when she’d do so, if she’d even wake up someday. She’s glad and relieved to be able to say she’s won over her previous ailment and is currently making up for all the time and the lies.

Her eyes flutter, tired. She finally glances at a clock: it’s already fairly late in the evening, nearing the very early morning. Visiting hours are closed, but she’s been allowed to remain: perhaps her already existing links with the nursing staff allowed her to do that. She’s going to fall asleep soon, even if she doesn’t want to, starting to lack in energy. Ah, that’s a shame… She’d have at least liked to be there when he’d wake up. Not that he’d need her to remember why he’s here, simply because she wants to be the first to say him hello in the morning.

She should have drunk coffee before getting here, but she doesn’t feel like getting up and fetching a can downstairs. What if he wakes up while she’s gone? She doesn’t want that, does she? She’ll remain by his side, now, so she can finally be truly forgiven and make up for her mistakes, clutching the plushie close to her chest.

She still ends up falling asleep, eventually, slowly dragged into Morpheus’s arms. Her dream is nothing out of the ordinary: it’s abstract and colourful, as she walks around a beautiful garden with fountains made out of crystal shimmering under the summer sunlight. She always feels like she’s been here before, but never knows why, the reason remaining in the shadows of the nearby forest she used to be trapped in. It’s peaceful and calm, gentle like the breeze going through her untied hair.

She follows a golden path, the breeze still blowing through the meadow, flowers slowly dancing to it as they perfume the air. The prize waiting for her at the end of the path always changes and, this time, it’s a familiar pair of eyes she carelessly runs towards.

It’s already shining outside when Akane finally comes to, eyelids fluttering back open, the discomfort of sleeping in a chair making itself known in the background. The first changes she notices are on her: she now has a jacket on her shoulders, whose scent has never been hers, and there’s a cushion in her back. Someone’s undoubtedly been there while she was out. It’s a given, considering this is a hospital.

She hasn’t moved much in her sleep, she realizes, considering her hand is still in the same place as it was before she fell asleep. She doesn’t dare move it as she otherwise stirs to further wake up, immediately greeted by a familiar voice.

“Tch, don’t tell me you’ve been here all night…”

It’s groggy and obviously tired, most likely still tinted with some anaesthetics. It’s accompanied by a smirk on his face, eyes half-closed.

“Good morning, Ryouhei,” she replies with a smile, noticing her own voice to still sound tired and not entirely awaken yet. Maybe he’s only woken up recently too.

Despite his hostile words, which lack the bite he tried to put into them, he puffs, “good morning, Akane.”

She takes his hand in hers, trying to shake away the lethargy she feels in one of them.

“Go to bed, you look like crap,” he tells her again, but his fingers trying to hold hers betray him.

“I’m happy to see you’ve not changed while I was asleep.”

“Tch, like I even would… That’s just a tiny operation…”

To her slight surprise, Ryouhei loses his smirk.

“Wait… You did stay here all night, did you?”

“I did! It was the least I could do after you’ve watched over me for so long!”

He tries to shove his head in his hand, but the way he’s positioned makes it funny to watch.

“I told you that it was fine… You didn’t need to do that, geez… ”

“Maybe I didn’t need to, but I really wanted to…”

The hint of red she sees on his face makes her swoon on the inside, like she’s getting tickled under her skin. A weird, yet not uncomfortable feeling.

They shortly fall into silence, neither of them speaking, as she watches the sun rise from the window, peeking through the curtains. The dawn is beautiful.

“…thank you, Akane,” she hears getting mumbled by a boy looking the other way.

“It’s nothing,” she replies, hands closing in on his.

It tastes like childhood again.


End file.
